Lannister Complex
by nidido
Summary: Luiza, his love after Cersei's betrayal. Unfortunately, she's also Cersei's daughter... and his too. Jaime/oc Warning, rated M for a reason; there will be incest there will be sex probably, and mature themes in general. Don't say I didn't warn you.


**Disclaimer: I do not own game of thrones or a song of ice and fire.**

 **An- Warning, incest, sex in later chapters, and overall adult themes.**

 **I'm not a talented writer; however, I wrote this one day so I decided to share it anyways.**

Lu…

Love…

The love of my life. My young love so tender and sweet. Her heart beats weak when the loins of a lion light to fire. Burning more than the coals of tinder and just as soft. Her fingers leave tingles, and her lips a hot red mark.

Lu, love, Luiza. My second sin but my only meaning; her heart lies in my hand more than the dying Citril Finch. It's yellow feathers the thick of her hair.

Melpomene to the king, to her mother; princess Melpomene to the people. Luiza to her mad twin brother. But always first Luiza to me, in bed, in the shadows of the castle, and behind her mother's back. Luiza at night with wide wise eyes and kind hands.

My old flame, my sister, Cersei I must confess: the forbidden fruit tastes the best.

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Jaime stood outside the queen's chambers, Cersei's chambers. His hands clamped together in the front of his torso casting golden glimmers with the evening glow. Cersei had been in bed for hours her screams mocking the pale red quarry of the castle walls. Maester Pycelle had gone in hours ago, his withering bones the feet of partridges as he hobbled up the stairs. Following him came flushed midwives and bouncing wet nurses; abandoning their own spawn for the seed of the king. Or for the gold of the kind, which was more Lannister than Baratheon. If his sister hadn't been screaming he would have chuckled then; for it seemed as all the king owned was impart someone elses and now his false children would be too.

Robert, the fat fool, was missing. A hunting trip of all things. Thought that wasn't surprising. He left with no excuse and Cersei had spitefully said he had wanted to be gone for her birth. Jaime had to agree, when it came to his Cersei, the king was a coward. It hurt him to think she may die, his mother had. He never cared much for Joanna; she separated him and Cersei sleeping together as children, and for that, she had his anger. But Cersei loved their mother; perhaps that's why she could never love Tyrion.

The screaming had stopped. It was past dusk now; his armor no longer cast light in the shadows. Instead, pale moonlight thinned through the clouds and the screams were replaced with the frail crying of a babe. Jaime wanted to go in, to see Cersei, too kiss and comfort her. He put a hand on the door and thought of it; just going in, using his relation as an excuse. There weren't many people there, Maester Pycelle, the wet nurses and midwives. He lifted his wrist just slightly but the moment of passion disappeared as a new sound entered the halls. It was that of heavy boots laden with mud and dirt. Soft and crackling along the stone floor. He returned to position by the side of Cersei's door in time to see King Robert entering the halls. He was filthy, face a sweat with masks of dirt laying under his beard and his bramble patterned vest taut under the weight of his stomach. He moved a hand to brush his frayed hair and it bounced back up after the contact ceased, leaving his hand even dirtier than it had been before.

"Kingslayer." He nodded, and Jaime's neck gave a twitch at the name. The king seemed to only care to call him that, even though he had been the one to pardon him. No doubt without the persuasion of the Lannisters, or more precisely Tywin. Nevertheless, he smiled with perfectly lined white teeth; motioning to the room forbidden to him.

"I see your trip concluded after the eleventh hour," Jaime mocked in a way as if he was consoling a child. His tone was easily detected; making the sour king sneer before he stepped to the door.

"So a child's already been born?" The king's hand laid on the heavy brass ring to the heavier hornbeam door. His face twisting in an almost regretful way; if it had been any other day, Jaime would have believed he was mistaken. But it seemed as if the still lovesick king could look past his precious Lyanna for one moment.

If Jaime wasn't there, the king would have waited for hours outside the door, hand frozen on the handle as Jaime was not minutes ago. But Jaime was there, so with one last glare the king went into the room and Jaime caught a glimpse of the opulent chamber; lavish silks and soft furs comforting every surface. A warmth curled up Jaime's middle as the heat of the room escaped through the breach. It looked different than the last time he had visited. Numerous lords and ladies had sent gifts for the pregnant queen, and after the child was born there would be another wave of calculated offerings. The men accompanying Robert, Ser Selmy and a young Broom ward looked tired from the hunt. House Broom was sworn to House Lannister he wondered if Tywin sent him. The ward was as blonde as a Lannister; many lower house members would marry into sworn houses to keep to blood strong. Ser Selmy, on the other hand, was occasionally believed to still support the Targaryens. Many had been upset over Roberts slaughter of Elia Martell and her children. Both men now did as Robert said, and they did not follow any further into the king's tower. Instead, continuing back down the empty hall.

He heard voices through the door after Robert's arrival, Cersei shouting, and softer voices of women or the maester. He wasn't familiar enough with Pycelle to pick his voice from a chorus.

Jaime stayed at his post. He wanted everyone to leave and then go in himself and see Cersei wrap his arm around her soft form and bring her home. The king departed first. It was morning and his face had fallen with tiredness from the last time he had seen him. He didn't even look at Jaime as he left, and Jaime opted for watching his back fade in distance.

He wondered if the killing of a second king would set his moniker perpetual.

It was a while till Jaime could enter, but he was the first to visit at the start of the lying-in period. He brought no gifts or food, leaving those to servants and formal guests. Jaime, alone walked into the large chamber, his armored boots silent against the rug padded room. Great furs of shadow cats and bears lined her bed and she looked every bit a queen as time froze for her appearance. His eyes met Cersei, and he hastily shooed maester Pycelle from the scene. The old man looked at him with wise eyes and Jaime wondered if the master suspected anything. With the witness departed he moved to Cersei's bed and caught her lips in his. A stray hand trailed down the cooling sweat layering her skin finding the hem of her clothes. Her dress was thin having given birth less than a day before, and he could view her thinning figure well through it. She looked beautiful in the light of the morning, her face a flush and long golden tassels coating the thick sheets. Both hands had been making their way to the soft of her thighs before he was interrupted.

"Not now Jaime." She did not shout, yet her voice was just as hard. Cold seeped into his heart at her refusal. It wasn't the first time she told him off, but he did not like it nonetheless. So he continued his journey up her dress tugging at the soft fabric.

"Jaime I said not now!" She did shout this time, throwing him off with some hidden strength in one fell swoop. The sound did not leave the room; however, a cry arose amidst the sheets. Cersei moved again, with nimble speed, and reached over for her hidden babe. Jaime was curious, only slightly, he did not care much for his spawn, but nonetheless, he wondered of the little beast.

"Male?" He rose an eyebrow in question. King Robert had said nothing when he departed, and neither did the maidens who left earlier. Male was favored for a first child, it secured and heir.

"One," Cersei replied, her soft hand stroking the cherub cheeks of a babe. To Jaime, it looked ugly and fat. He doubted Cersei ever looked as such. 'One' the thought echoed in his head and he took a moment to look around the room searching for what she meant. When he found nothing he turned back to Cersei in question.

"One?" She did not look at him as he asked and moved her same pallid hand over the thin sheets to reveal the second pink babe. It looked like the first, but it was still and quiet, unlike the squabbling sibling. The body was much smaller too. If it wasn't still here he would have thought the babe was stillborn.

"Meet our children Jaime." She spoke softer than Jaime thought possible, and her strokes on both children were delicate over the thin skin.

"Twins." Oh, the irony Jaime thought, and he voiced as such next before putting his hands back on his sister.

"I said not now." Her face twisted and her hands once free returned to the children. Tending to the still wailing brat and moving back to see if the quiet babe was still alright. Jaime felt betrayed, jealous, and began to wish she drank the moon tea every night. His thoughts were interrupted and a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Cersei spoke all too soon and any chance of seducing her departed with the appearance of two wet nurses, their full breasts drooping in plain cotton clothes.

"Here." Cersei, curt with the peasant women handed over the wailing babe, taking the silent one in her arms and close to her chest. The second wet nurse approached but Cersei shook her head.

"No, I believe she's fine." Cersei paused to look down at the cherub, a thumb trailing down fat red cheeks. "She latched last night."

The wet nurse smiled, giving a small nod before leaving at Cersei's wave. "I'll be back later, My Queen."

Cersei didn't acknowledge her as she left, her eyes fixed on the babe as if the small girl was all the good in the world. Yes, Jaime was jealous, he decided as much once Cersei put her loving eyes on another human being. The first wet nurse was still in the room, the noisy brat sucking off her teat.

"If you do not want to see my children then leave." Her icy tone returned, and Jaime looked back to his sister in shock. It was the first time she put him second, the first time she sent him away, and the first time she had been so cold. He waited for her to change her mind, to ask him to stay and send the wet nurse and both her babes away. But no such commands came.

With those treacherous thoughts in mind, he turned his heel, white cloak trailing behind, and did not look back once.

Jaime feared he was in strife with Cersei. It had been long since they ever had a disagreement. It made him yearn for the days of running their small hands through the soft sands of Casterly Rock. Cersei in small dresses building crooked castles in the sand and the waves, her greatest enemy, taking down the tall towers each night. He suggested she build them higher on the shore, but she never complied, building them right by the water every time. Her attention for him waned then, and he did not like building in the sand so he would stomp the frail grains down. She was mad at him then, but not cold, never cold. Her anger was a fiery sort and they wrestled in the sand, his hand traveling under her dress in their play. Then they would venture the various crevices in the stone of Casterly Rock, together with bare feet and interlocking hands. The only play she didn't engage in was jumping off the cliffs of Casterly Rock. She told father then, and he was mad at her for possibly the first time. The second occurred when he found out she care for Robert, though that love was fleeting, and their anger with each other departed soon. Now they were at the third, a so far the longest fray. Jaime did not like it, Cersei being mad at him, and he at her. It left a bitter taste in his mouth to be mad at his other half, his sister, his home, it was not right to be upset with her, and yet he was. It reminded him when he first became Kingsguard. How she asked him to stay for her so the two of them could be together. Jaime believed he had done a lot for his sister, and now she was throwing his sacrifices in the dirt. It made him want to be cold too.

Behind him, the door opened and a whore emerged. While the king's wife lay with her children, the king laid with whores. Jaime if possible, was even more displeased. The giggling woman gave him a shy smile before scuttling away, her soft shoes scuffing the floors. She was pretty but the gods made him love one woman. As the little whore's feet went silent heavy footsteps arose and he nodded to knight taking shift.

"Kingslayer." Ser Mandon greeted, a sneer in his voice. Jaime wanted to scoff but opted for silence thankful for the relieve, he wanted to make up to Cersei. He couldn't live without his other half, he couldn't be cold to her.

When Jaime found Cersei she was hovering above her children. Nine out of ten times he had seen her over the months she was hovering. He closed the door behind him, locking it with a click before joining his sister. Both arms wrapped around her and he waited this time before pulling for a kiss.

"Isn't she lovely." Her eyes were heavy with sleep and adoration. He remembered once when she looked at him with those eyes.

"She's small." He replied simply. It was the first time he had a good look at them since they were born, and he noticed immediately the difference in size between the two. If it hadn't already been six months he would have thought the girl would pass. Perhaps that why Cersei hovered, in fear they would pass like her first child.

"I thought she was going to die," Cersei admitted shakily. Her hand moving down to the child's face. Jaime had half the mind to intercept it. "She's so quiet, I fear she may still leave." A single thumb stroked the pale fat of the cheek, not unlike the first time Jaime visited. "She's quieter than Joffrey. Better to keep her close." Cersei looked at him now, with love, not like before; before when there were no children to share her with, but still love and Jaime's heartbeat started again at the single glance.

"Cersei, I've missed you." Jaime took her arm away from the cradle and lifted her to the bed; his arms trailing over her, missing the feeling of her skin under his fingers. Passion taking hold, he bedded his sister till morning.

Jaime decided that he didn't like Cersei's children. Joffrey was a prick, the boy was only of four yet he took to mischievous habits; biting servants and stoning palace doves with rocks. One time he cut the stomach of a pregnant kitchen cat and brought the unborn kittens to his father and sister. The twin, Melpomene, and what a mouthful that was; Jaime thought it strange for Cersei to name here such a thing. However, he cared little for her name and little for the girl herself. They did not look alike, Melpomene was frail from her weak birth and such carried over in her appearance; while Joffrey was more brutish, with, heavy set bones and an arching brow. While Joffrey was cruel Melpomene was meek; frequently avoiding most of the castle's life. If it weren't for her brother dragging her around he doubted he would ever see the girl at all. Personally, that made him almost thankful to Joffrey; for if the girl was with him she was not in her mother's room and then Jaime himself could visit.

It was another year before Jaime thought of his bastard children again. Melpomene spoke for the first time and Cersei was nearly in tears, although she argued the girl had spoken to her in confinement before. Jaime did not bother to argue, Cersei knew more of the children than him.

Tyrion visited, and to Cersei's dismay, the young girl took a great liking to the dwarf.

"Uncle." Her soft voice managed to reach him in the halls and he looked in to see the young girl, shorter than Tyrion himself, sitting in his lap as he read an oversized book. Jaime was in a shock, Joffrey took an instant disliking to Tyrion, and he figured the girl who so often followed her brother's commands would stay away from the dwarf as well. However here she was curled in his lap like a kitten asking about why knights did the things they did. Tyrion merely shrugged before admitting, "who knows." and continued with the story.

With both, the child and Tyrion distracted Jaime went to Cersei's room. She was still cold, colder than before. Even to him the past warmth he felt was now solely devoted to her children. And she even began to play the game for them. Not that she wasn't in it before, she was queen after all, but now with an heir, she made pawns of lords and sent ladies to be her ears.

"Cersei." His eyes found her and she stood from her desk. Legs of leaves swaying from under her skirts; she was heavy with another child, no doubt his. He held her now one last time for tomorrow he would go with Tyrion to Castle Rock. Lannisport had been attacked by the Greyjoy's. Balon Greyjoy hoped to gain control of the Sunset Sea. King Robert was gathering his brother Stannis's fleets and prepared to go north soon after them. Ser Selmy was coming with him, along with other of the Kingsguard, and he wondered if the Greyjoy's would be annihilated like the Targereyons.

His last night, he wanted to spend with Cersei, pregnant or not.

Jaime was gone for longer than he'd thought possible. The Greyjoy's had been planning the rebellion for a while. Balon desired independence for the Iron Isles, unlike his father who had wished to strengthen ties with the Seven Kingdoms. Ser Selmy left Lannisport and led an attack on Old Wyk. The rebellion was killed at the Seige of Pyke, Jaime had been there with his father and once more met the Warden of the North Eddard Stark. The aftermath of the battle he spent in Casterly Rock with Tywin and Tyrion. He predicted Tywin would attempt to persuade him to take his 'rightful' place as heir. But he did not predict the news Tyrion brought. His younger brother knowing of his relationship with Cersei claimed she was 'fucking Brigan Broom, Osmund Kettleblack' and sarcastically Moon Boy. Appalled he didn't believe him of course and left his little brother with no more words. Feeling betrayed by yet another kin.

When he arrived at the Red Keep he went to Cersei first. He was not welcomed. Cersei's cursed him out, throwing him from her bed in a rage. She'd complained he'd taken to long, and in turn, he confronted her on her coldness. He had wanted to bring up Tyrion's words then, but something stopped him. The anger from years of neglect came to a livid hiss. Her ongoing coldness, and vindictive attitude, he missed the girl full of emotion she was in her youth. Cersei screamed in his face before tending to her new wailing babe. It was another girl, Myrcella, she had blood tufts on her head and cried quieter than Joffrey had, and somehow that made reminded him of them both. The little children who had taken Cersei's love. He took her then once more, as Myrcella wailed, his hand felt Cersei's familiar curves and though she said 'not now' at first, by the end she was begging him. It was a short relief, as by morning she had thrown him out once more returning to the infantile child. Jaime stood by her door as he had so many years ago, and left after a moment of debate, adjusting his skewed tunic in a haste. He had almost disappeared from the royal family's tower before a small voice broke the silence.

"Welcome home uncle Jaime." If it were Joffrey, he'd expect wickedness in the tone, but it was little Melpomene instead. Her hair down in the morning light and her face looking as if it longed of sleep. He'd wondered if she heard anything, but decided that she wouldn't understand anyway. In his moment of thought, she gave him a small smile before running back up the steps. Jaime left the tower then.

Jaime watched the Broom boy closely now. Kettleblack was harder to follow he was a Knight after all. He had nearly tailed Moon Boy but thought against it after a single look at his chubby tomato face. The Broom boy was another matter; young and blonde with a flowery character and a lean build. Then one night when Cersei was still avoiding him the young ward followed his sister to her chambers.

Rage like no other filled his heart. What he felt was an inhuman burning but the fire died fast, and the black coals took up less space in his belly. He drank to forget the blatant betray but each cup of wine was thick with malice and he felt like the king in his drunken state.

He wondered if he hated her. His own sister. He thought he did for quite a while. Instead, he related himself to Tyrion; he still cared for his sister, but like her coldness, it was not as before, he did not love her. The gods released his love of such a hateful woman. Heavy bitter stones prevented him from loving her again. He wanted back all the time he wasted on her, the years he lived only for her love, and he wanted out of the Kingsguard.

But he didn't leave the Kingsguard, he wanted to see Kettleblack too; he wanted one more proof, one more reason to abandon Cersei.

It was a few days before he began to regret his choice of not leave the Kingsguard at once. He could do so with the help of his father; Tywin would be elated, he might even smile. Now that was a thought.

No, instead of leaving he was stuck here by the orders of the king watching his bastard children play in the water behind the Red Keep.

Joffrey would hold his sister's head under the water and she would come up gasping for air and holding his arms for balance. Then he would drench her again and the cycle would repeat. Once she tried to swim away but the layers of her dress made her slower than her brother.

He poured sand in her hair and she took the advantage of the closeness to shore running to Jaime. He did not like such a mundane task. The king was in the works of bringing the younger Clegane as the twins guards, but for now, King Robert tasked his Kingsguards with it.

His young niece hid behind him as Joffrey scowled and only when he showed no sign of chase did she come out from behind his form.

She laid back on the sand her dress wet from time in the sea and exhausted from her brother's play. For a moment he saw her as a Nereid. Her hair full of salt and sand as it stuck to her face like sticky pearls.

"Joffrey's exhausting." She said finally, her breath slowing and her sleeveless dress rubbing her bare arms against the damp sand. She was getting a tan in the southern sun and he felt compelled to move beside her sitting form in the brown sand. It was courser than at Casterly Rock, but not uncomfortable.

"Reminds me of Tyrion." He said absentmindedly, remembering all the jests he used to play in Casterly Rock. They weren't as violent as what Joffrey did but humiliating at the very least.

"Tyrion's much more charming." The young Nereid snorted and straightened her wet wrinkled dress.

"I'm sure he'd agree." Jaime allowed a smile thinking of his brother, but then he was reminded of Tyrion's words and reminded of Cersei. The Nereid almost as if she noticed his malaise patted the back of his shin and took Ser Diggory to return the Red Keep. Jaime stopped him, he'd rather go with his niece than watch Joffrey.

Then together they left the sullen Joffrey, her wet fabrics dragging the whole way there.

The girl was a nymph. She looked of Lannister, but not of Cersei or Jaime. He had thought it strange as Myrcella was turning to look just like her mother. Although Cersei was once more pregnant, her stomach heavy from their last fuck. He was unsure if the child was truly his this time. It had been a while since then. He often wondered if she drank the moon tea after Broom or Kettleblack. He had caught the knight a few moons ago sneaking into her room. The older male was certainly bolder with visiting Cersei. His blood had not boiled that time; instead, he went to the king to rectify his place in the Kingsguard.

But he had stopped short going to his sister's room, and like the king on each birth waited outside the door till morning. He saw the young nymphette once more, she got up before all the servants and gave him a curious look. Before exchanging pleasantries and going to breakfast together. He frequently ate with Cersei and her children, without Robert present, but never this early. After, she went off to who knows where and he went to find the king.

Jaime disliked Joffrey; however, he found himself spending more time with Cersei's spawn as the little nymphette Melpomene draw him near. He blamed it on Cersei, she had left him and he was now ostracized like Tyrion and seeking comfort in any being who spoke with him. And as it turned out, the one who he had the most tolerance with was the nymph, Melpomene. She was most curious; frequently asking him questions of the Kingsguard and of Westeros's history. He stayed clear of the dreary details, but for the most part, enlightened the innocent nymph. He decided then that at least one of Cersei's spawn wasn't so bad.

Jaime was unsure of how it started. They were dreams but who made them? Why did they haunt him? And how was he to stop it? He missed Cersei, but he didn't love her. It was a torturous experience, and his mind tortured him more. He dreamed of her, Cersei, but when she turned her blonde head he only saw the face of Melpomene. It frightened him, and he went to Cersei's door once more, waiting outside her chambers like he had so many times before. He waited outside the door and waited nearly half the night without the confidence to open it. Jaime didn't know what to say even if he opened the door. Would he shout accusations, or bring up the past. He made no movement further till it passed midnight and decided to depart, not wanting to wait any longer. On the way down his legs stopped at another door. It was smaller decorated with small fawns and slender does. They looked almost real in the brown of the wood. As if under a spell he traced the designs willing them to be lions and cubs. He stayed here till morning and the nymphette opened it in a shock to see her uncle. Jaime almost felt ashamed before she slowly smiled at him and motioned him to come with her. She led him out to a rock outcrop the east most side of the castle and explained to him how when she felt upset she liked to see the day rise its sleepy head over the great blue sea. He thought it was childish but strangely comforting. Melpomene left at breakfast but Jaime stayed a churning guilt ruining the good of the morning.

For that night every week, he waited outside her door, not Cersei but the nymphette. It felt wrong to call her by her name. In his mind, he named her Luiza, and in public, Mel. The name his brother called her. Melpomene felt wrong, Melpomene felt like Cersei on his tongue.

Each every morning she woke first in the castle and led him to their place and the sunrise.

The next week his fingers found the brass handle, and next they found the room. Luiza was in a shock once more, but they still visited the sunset, and she brought him sweet bread from the kitchen.

It was another week before he met her bed, Luiza's soft comforting shifting throughout the entire night. He hated this feeling, he was unsure of what it was, yet Luiza the nymph call him each night and he was a slave to her sound. When he first laid down and held her she stirred. Speaking not as Luiza but another little girl. "Uncle?"

The softly spoken words sent another pain through his gut, and he held tighter knowing she would not tell. Each night he came, simple touches nothing more and it brought him from his malaise after Cersei's betrayal. She no longer took him to the sunset so he brought her there knowing the way well by now.

The Gods had tricked him yet again, trading his love for a hateful woman, to one of innocence.

Every morning she woke as Melpomene, but each night she was Luiza for him. When they met during the day she was somewhere in between. Perhaps she was Mel of shoeless feet and sea-soaked dresses. But at night the wet stayed in her hair and her toes remained free leaving her as Mel and Luiza. Luiza of white cotton sheets woke as Luiza of Melpomene, and her actions took a friendlier tone than what it began as. She called him uncle, and he told her to call her Jaime. She called him Jaime as Mel, Melpomene, and Luiza, and then he of Ceasar spotting Brutus saw his niece as all the same. Luiza was Mel and the Princess Melpomene. Cersei's daughter...his daughter and the sickness in his gut crawled as poison in his veins. It did not stop him from holding her each night, but he promised to himself and her whispering in her sleep to never do more. Unfortunately, he never was a man of honor.

 **hmmm, I edited this a lot but it didn't turn out as clean as I wanted it too. Lol, pls flame grammer in reviews- next chapter up in maybe a few days unless everyone hates this XD**


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